Looney Tunes
by aranenumenesse
Summary: Adventures of Pepe Le Pew and Tweedy Bird. Not really. It's rogan. AU.


Generally speaking he didn't mind a bit about weather. In fact, if somebody had asked him to name the one thing he genuinely loved, it probably would have been Canadian winters. Dry, cold weather, cold enough to freeze the balls off from a lesser man. Crisp air nipping his lungs, that small tingling on his skin that came when he stepped out from his truck and the icy queen wrapped her chilling fingers around him. Keywords in the whole equation being cold and dry. Dry enough to suck the moisture out of rocks, cold enough to turn that moisture instantly to ice.

Nothing like the weather back here. Watery slush on the ground, sloshing in his shoes, humid, sticky coldness from the fog creeping inside of him, chilling his bones and making his skin itch like he had a rash of the century. His joints ached. His teeth ached. His head ached. He felt somehow used up, like somebody had taken him in, chewed him for a while and had then spat him out on the sidewalk for everybody to step on. And he was genuinely cold. All the time. Shivering and shaking, hiding in his room because he truly didn't want hear quips about how old age wasn't coming alone.

"Nesting?"

"Screw you, Cyclops…" Animated pile of blankets of all sizes and shapes growled while passing Scott Summers on the hallway. When he had finally gotten enough of the humid coldness of his room Logan had taken upon a task to find anything and everything useful for turning his bed as comfortable and warm as possible. Extra pillows and quilts disappeared fast in to his room. He had been eyeing the pile of old newspapers in the kitchen but had discarded them quickly when the sharp scent of the ink had assaulted his senses after picking up the pile.

He had discarded his sticky, clammy clothes and was about to crawl under bunched up blankets when there was a knock on the door. He snatched quickly the nearest quilt and draped it over his shoulders, checking that it gave him a decent cover before opening the door.

"Hhh… Hi… Um… Ahem… There's a situation. Meet us in the b-b-briefing room in ten m-m-min…" Ororo Munroe, X-Team's serene weather goddess stuttered, corners of her mouth ticking alarmingly, her eyes scanning him from head to toes.

"I'll be there," Logan grunted closing the door. Walked to the closet, hoping to find something comfortable and warm to wear. Full body mirror attached to the closet's door revealed the reason for Ororo's gleefulness. Blanket he had chosen to cover himself was pale blue. Very pale blue. And adorned with images from children's show he vaguely remembered seeing once. Teddy bears in all colors of the rainbow, their chubby arms spread, just waiting for a hug. Care Bears. Well, it was warm.

"Uh… W-Wolverine? What is your intake on this… This situation?" Cyclops asked, trying his best to suppress the laughter. Nobody laughed to the Wolverine. But it was damned near impossible not to laugh when he had shuffled in, wearing oversized, fluffy pullover, school's light grey sweatpants, woolen socks over the sweats and pair of blue bunny slippers, with a blanket advertising Care Bears draped over his shoulders and around his neck. And were those really oven mitts on his hands?

"I say we go in and see what happens. It's not like those fuckers have had any chances against us before."

"Uh… Wolverine?" Storm approached him when they were sitting in the Blackbird, all suited up and ready to go.

"What?" He asked, trying to burrow deeper in to the cushions of his seat. Leather felt icy cold, but if he managed to minimize the amount of air between his back and the backrest it might actually…

"It's a public place, and your attire…" Storm's voice trailed off and her brows knit together.

"So? I have the uniform on."

"Could you consider leaving off that pullover and the blanket?"

"Fine." It was a brief struggle, but he managed to peel off the cream colored pullover and wrapped it carefully together with the blanket, burrowing his hands inside of the roll like it was some kind of strangely colored muff.

"What? I took them off! My hands are cold!" Logan snapped when Storm kept staring at him.

"Fine… Just leave them in the jet when we go out, okay?"

"What are you, the fashion police?"

"Wolverine…"

"Alright, alright! Let's have it your way, then! Don't see me complaining when you drag that grey sweater around…"

"I wear it at home when it's cold. It isn't even below freezing outside!"

"That's the point! What's with this pansy-ass-turning-you-to-sticky-freezing-liquid weather, Weather Girl? Getting sloppy with age?"

"Wolverine! Are you insinuating that I'm meddling with the weather? And what was that about my age?"

"Children, stop your bickering and daddy won't have to spank you both when we get back home!" Cyclops' irritated voice in the intercom silenced both Wolverine and Storm, and they sat rest of the flight staring at each other in muted rage.

"Jesus. That's… That's disgusting," Cyclops grimaced.

"What? I don't think this guy needs these anymore," Wolverine grunted, flexing his fingers, testing the gloves he had taken from one of his opponents. One of his very dead and very mutilated opponents. He had had to hunt through pile of dismembered body parts to find a matching pair, but it had been well worth the trouble. Gloves were soft leather, with warm inner lining, yet fit to his hands like they were made for him. All he would have to do was to clean off the blood, and Prrrresto! He'd have something better to keep his hands warm than those oven mitts he had stolen from the school's kitchen.

"We have to do something," Ororo huffed. Scott rubbed his chin tiredly.

"I agree. This is getting out of hands. Could you… You know…" He asked, gesturing towards bluish grey sky through the window of Professor Xavier's office. Professor Xavier looked appalled, and Ororo apparently shared his opinion.

"No. The weather is as it should be. It's not my place to go meddling with it."

"Then what do you suggest? I'm afraid it's already gone past what's sane and healthy. All those blankets and heaters… If Logan's not careful, he'll burn down the whole mansion! And don't get me even started with electric bills…" Scott huffed. Professor Xavier shook his head, his eyes staring in to distance, somewhere past the wet, slushy garden outside.

"I'm afraid this leaves us with only one choice."

"Professor?" Scott spoke. Professor Xavier raised his palm to silence him.

"It is a hard decision. We have already looked through every other option. I'm going to make a phone call."

"Professor, do we even have the right to…" Ororo started. One glance towards the open doorway was enough to silence her. Logan flashed past the office, carrying armful of hot water bottles and yet another electric heater.

"Make the call. And do it quick," Scott said, standing up from the couch and going after Logan. He'd have to ask from him from where exactly did he manage to find all those heaters. He'd have to ask him to give away at least few of those. Logan would otherwise short circuit the whole east wing of the mansion.

* * *

She had just gotten back home when her phone rang. Only ones with the number to it were Professor Xavier and Logan. Logan had called last night, so it was probably Professor calling. She kicked off her shoes, shrugged off her jacket and hurried to answer.

"Professor! It's good to hear from you! How are you?" She asked smiling upon the caller greeting her.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking. How are you? Everything is going well, I presume?" Professor Xavier asked. His tone was light, but she could hear a hint of worry and tiredness in his voice.

"Couldn't be better. But why do I have the feeling that this isn't just your usual check-up call?" She asked. Professor sighed.

"You're very perceptive young woman, Marie. It's about Logan."

"Oh… Is he alright? He called me just last night and everything seemed to be okay, has something happened?" She asked.

"Nothing has happened. But…" Line went silent, and for a moment she thought that professor had for some reason hung up on her. Then he continued.

"I'm afraid he's not adjusting to your moving out very well. He's taken it rather badly, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean? He hasn't told me anything."

"That doesn't surprise me. He is, after all, the epitome of independence. However, things have gotten to a point that we're unable to tolerate his bouts and whims any longer. Would it be possible to…" Again professor fell to silence. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head when he tried to find the right words.

"I know this is a lot to ask, seeing how your relationship with Bobby just ended and everything, but could you consider…"

"I'm not coming back. As long as Bobby's there, I can't. I'm sorry, professor, I really am, but it's just too painful."

"Oh, I'm not even expecting you to move back in. I was thinking about that spare room you have, and…"

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Shouldn't I be having this conversation with Logan?"

"He's unwilling to admit that there's nothing wrong. Would it be possible for you to ask from him if he could move in with you?" Professor asked.

"And how am I supposed to do that? What should I tell him? Why should he move in with me?" She asked.

"Rent."

"What?"

"Tell him that you need somebody to share the rent with you. Seeing how antsy he got as soon as you moved out, he'd be more than willing to help you out."

Despite the fact that professor's idea sounded more than appealing and she really did have hard time scrounging up enough money for the rent and rest of the bills, she hesitated to call to Logan. She was a grown woman. She had told him that often enough. Every time he called he offered to help her out, and every time she refused, telling him that she was a grown woman with grown woman's responsibilities. And that she shouldn't be running to him as soon as there was even a hint of troubles. One, probably the biggest reason for her moving out from the mansion had really been her desire to test her wings and fly on her own for at last.

And now she was supposed to lie through her teeth, something Logan would most likely pick up faster than she could say 'busted'.

"Logan."

"Uhm… Hi. It's me."

"Marie? What's going on? Has something happened?" Translation: how bad do you want me to hurt somebody?

"Oh, nothing has happened. I just called… I just called to say hi. How have you been?" She tried desperately to find an opening.

"Same as last night. And you?" She grit her teeth. Ever cryptic, no-news-is-good-news wasn't what she was hoping for.

"Just peachy. Saw the game last night?"

"Several. But you don't watch hockey. Seriously, what's going on, kid?"

"Uh, nothing… I was just wondering… Couldyoumoveinwithme?" She huffed it out with one breathy whisper. For a moment there was a complete silence. She knew Logan had heard her.

"Move in with you? Why the fuck?"

"I was just thinking. I have a spare room and I don't even use it. Yet I pay for it every month."

"I can give you money if you need. I know how much you like that apartment. It's no problem for me, kid." Uh-huh. He was making this harder.

"Well… That's… That's not all. I have enough money, it's not that…"

"Then what is it? Spit it out, for Christ's sakes."

"I have some serious weirdoes as my next door neighbors. They kind of freak me out…"

"Get a dog, kid."

"I'm allergic."

"Marie…"

"Seriously! I wouldn't be asking otherwise, but you're the only one who can help me out! Please!"

"Fine. But there are some ground rules."

"Of course."

"Rule number one. No complaining about the chicks I bring home."

"You bring them home? I thought you were more of the 'up against the wall, bitch' –type," she couldn't help giggling.

"Funny. Very funny, kid. Rule number two. No complaining about the beer I keep in your fridge."

"You don't mind if few of those went missing?"

"Touch my beer and I gut you. Rule number three. No hogging the bathroom every morning."

"Just every other morning…"

"Do you want me there or not?"

"Of course! But there are some rules for you, too, mister!"

"Okay. Fair enough."

"No complaining about my dates."

"I can live with that."

"No complaining about my cooking."

"Let me cook and we have that covered."

"No hairs in the sink, no unidentified chicks at the breakfast table, no watching porn or jerking off while I'm present."

"Christ! I'm not a caveman, Marie!"

"Oh, and most important of them all! No 'adjusting' yourself in public places."

"You drive a hard bargain for a chick who's looking for a flat mate. You sure that you're not too picky?"

"I called to you, didn't I?"

"Hmph… When do you want me to move in?"

"When you're ready?"

She put down the phone and let out the breath she had been unconsciously holding. Logan was coming in a few hours. She looked around. Place was clean and tidy. No embarrassing episodes with underwear in the near future. She plopped on the couch and huffed. How the hell was she going to handle this?

When she had arrived all those years ago to Xavier's with Logan she had had the mother of all crushes to him. Eventually it had faded, and when she started dating Bobby she had drifted to comfortable friendship stage with Logan. She could only hope it would last. There was no way she could share an apartment with a tomcat like him if she was harboring feelings towards him. Logan liked women. He liked them a lot. All kinds of women. All sizes, ages and shapes. He wasn't picky, and with his libido he was able to pick up several women during just one day.

"You'd better appreciate this, professor…" She muttered silently, imagining the prospect of meeting Logan's whole harem not too fondly.

* * *

"Though I'm not sure if it's wise to move in with her, I'm glad that we can have these back. The common room has looked a little empty without these…" Scott grunted, hefting a pile of couch cushions on his arms.

"And I'll be taking this, thank you very much…" Logan said, snatching the blanket that had gotten tangled between the cushions.

"Need a blankie to sleep?" Scott grinned balancing the pile that threatened to topple over. Logan flipped him the finger and stuffed the blue Care Bear blanket to his knapsack.

"It's warm."

"What ever. Could you return those oven mitts back to the kitchen when you go? And those blankets to the linen closet?"

He eyed the pile of neatly folded blankets longingly. Then shrugged. Marie's apartment was small. And more recently build than the mansion. It would most likely be considerably warmer. And if it wasn't, he'd find a way to stay warm. He closed the door, shouldered his knapsack and checked his room one more time to see if he had forgotten something. Closed the door behind him, strange feeling of finality coursing through him.

"Get a grip…" He muttered quietly to himself.

He wasn't all that sure that it would work out. He was well aware of his shortcomings as a houseguest. He was crabby in the mornings, kept late hours and generally did what happened to please him. But then again this was Marie. The girl he had often promised to take care of. And she had finally called that promise. At least he'd have to make an honest effort.

"Starting now…" He walked in to a small grocery shop. Marie's cuisine consisted fully from take-out and meals you heated in the microwave oven. He wasn't sure if his diet of greasy, rare meat topped with fresh vegetables was any healthier, but it tasted better.

He grabbed a cart and started filling it with everything he imagined would be missing from her kitchen, starting from the spice isle, ending to a corner, which local butcher had rented from the storekeeper. Half an hour later he was packing his groceries to the saddlebags of his motorcycle. Fifteen minutes from that he was parking in front of the building where Marie lived. Her apartment was in the fifth floor. Two bedrooms, living room, kitchen and a bathroom.

He had visited her once, when he helped her to move her belongings from the mansion. He couldn't remember for the life of him her having weird neighbors, but maybe somebody new had moved in. Well, what ever it was, he'd take care of it.

He squinted towards the grey sky above him. Snowflakes, heavy from water, were splashing on his face and shoulders. Shiver run down his spine. He stepped away from his motorcycle, adjusting the saddlebags and the knapsack on his shoulders and stepped promptly to a slushy puddle of ice and water, his boots slurping generous amount of the brownish grey slush.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" He wobbled to the front entrance of the building and sat on the stairs, tugging off his boots and pouring out the muck. The doorman eyed him suspiciously. He resisted the urge to growl and smiled at him instead. He could be polite when he wanted to.

"How about this weather…" He grunted. Doorman nodded and opened the door for him. He shuffled with soaking wet socks over the polished marble floor of the entrance hall, skirted past the elevators and took the stairs instead. If he was really moving in with Marie, he'd have to overcome his fear towards the elevators sooner or later, but he wasn't in the mood for learning new things right now. He was more in a mood of getting out of his wet clothes and getting in to something warm and dry.

At Marie's floor his nose didn't pick up any suspicious scents. No drugs, no booze. No sweat. No grease. Occasional whiff of cigars and coffee from few apartments, but nothing to worry about. Obviously the building was a place for the better folks. One of the reasons he had even approved her moving in. He'd much rather kept her back at the mansion, easier to take care of her there, but her break-up with the Drake kid had been far from pleasant and peaceful.

He stood behind her door. Shuffled his feet hesitantly. He could still go back. Go back to the mansion and call her that he wasn't up to it after all. He could. It would be easy. And didn't she used to tell him all the time how she was a grown woman who didn't need his help? He sniffled a bit, trying to decide what to do when the door flung open.

"Hi! Were you planning to camp out in front of my door?" Marie smiled at him, leaning casually against the doorframe, and he couldn't help noticing that she was wearing one of his shirts. He had forgotten it to her place when he was helping her with the moving, and he had never gotten round to take it back. The way she wore it, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and hem tucked in to the waist of her jeans, partially unbuttoned made him bark a short laughter. It was miles too big for her, but somehow she managed to make it look like it was made for her.

He pushed past her in to the apartment, patting to the kitchen and dropping the saddlebags to the table.

"What happened to your shoes?" Marie asked.

"Took a dive. You never told me that you have a pool in front of this building."

"A pool… Oh, that puddle? You walked in it? I keep telling to the manager that he should take care of it before somebody drowns in it, but it looks like there's nothing he can do. Or he just ignores me because I just moved in here."

"Or he's just a lazy bum. Hungry?" He asked, unpacking his groceries and cleaning off cartons of Chinese take-out from Marie's fridge.

"Nope. I just ate."

"Good. I'll go and change to something more comfortable. You mind making me some coffee?" He asked.

* * *

Half an hour later they were sitting in front of the TV. He was wearing pullover, worn pair of jeans, wool socks and the blanket draped over his lap. He had a steaming cup of coffee; Marie was curled next to him, radiating warmth like… Like a radiator, and there was some kind of nature show on, Attenborough explaining how certain species of scorpions made by in the scorching heat of the Sahara desert. He was slowly warming up.

"So… About these neighbors of yours…" Logan started and she swallowed.

"What about them?" She squeaked.

"Which ones of them are giving you troubles?"

"Umm… There's this old lady that lives above me. I think she's secretly plotting to get me married to the guy living next door me. And then below me lives a family with five girls, they're all girl scouts and they keep pestering me with their cookies and if they don't stop I'm going to have to say good bye to half of my wardrobe. I swear I have put on several kilos since I moved in here."

"Really? Well, I have to say it suits you just fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Woman should have a little meat over her bones."

"I bet Cindy would have loved that comment," she joked, relieved that she had gotten Logan distracted.

"Cindy?" Logan asked puzzled look on his face.

"The chick you were banging couple months ago."

"Oh… Yeah. Skinny as hell. But beast in bed," Logan nodded, taking a sip from his coffee.

"If she was so good, why'd you ended with her?"

"Wasn't me. She broke it off.

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

"Don't be. It was fun while it lasted… So… How about you? It's been a while since you and Bobby… Have you found anybody interesting yet?"

"Found one years ago, just before I met Bobby. Bastard was too blind to see the benefits of hooking up with me."

"I saw the benefits, believe me, I saw. But I have this funky sixth sense that told me that if I had gotten it on with you, Xavier would have had me neutered and arrested."

It didn't matter that it probably was a complete lie. Logan had never shown any interest towards her beyond friendship, but his confession stroked her ego that had been flattened few months ago. So she leaned little tighter against his side, nuzzling her face against the texture of his shirt.

"Getting tired?" Logan asked. She shrugged. It was well past her usual bedtime. As soon as the thought crossed her mind she grimaced. She was thinking like an old lady.

"Couch okay for you? Just for this night. Well go shopping you a proper bed tomorrow."

"It's okay. Have slept in worse places. Just remember, if I'm talking in my sleep, don't…"

"Don't get too close or try to wake you up. Been there, done that, won't happen again," she promised, her gaze sweeping briefly over his knuckles.

She could still remember the feeling of dangling in front of him, skewered through the shoulder. Utter horror and panic in his eyes, then sharp relief when she leaned over to touch him. He hadn't know what her mutation was capable of, but from the tangled bundle of thoughts and emotions she had pulled out from him along his mutation and life she could make out his opinion of what had happened. It had been only fair. He had hurt her. For her it may have even looked like he had tried to kill her, so it was only fitting for her to attack him.

It had taken her quite some time to explain to him that it hadn't been an attack directed towards him. That it had been purely instinctual reaction. That her body had just tried to stay alive.

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Logan asked.

"Yeah. My shift starts at seven. But don't worry; I'll be quiet as a mouse. You can sleep as long as you like. I'll leave you my spare keys."

"Now what kind of a bodyguard would I be if I slept in while you're walking a whole block alone out there? Of course I'm coming with you!"

"Our breakfast special lasts until eleven."

"Oh… Never mind, then. I'll come around ten, that okay?" Logan asked. She nodded.

* * *

She woke up yawning widely, trying to remember what made this day so special. Then she smiled. Not special. Just different. Logan was here. This was the first day she was sharing her tiny apartment with him. And judging from the last night, everything would go well.

She put on her nightgown and bathrobe before walking in to the kitchen. She had to back up a bit and take a second look, because her still sleepy brain refused to comprehend what she was seeing at the first glimpse.

Logan was sleeping on the floor instead of the couch. He had taken the cushions and laid them in front of the radiator. He was practically hugging the metal contraption, all wrapped up to the blanket advertising Care Bears. She cursed her luck, or more the lack of it. She had a camera. She had even film for it. But by the time she got the camera operational, Logan would be wide-awake. She shook her head, fetched her bedcovers and spread them on top of Logan. He muttered his thanks with voice hoarse from sleep, curled even closer to the radiator and wrapped the covers she had given him tightly around him.

She took a shower, then got dressed and skipped the breakfast, because apparently she had been ogling her sleeping friend far longer than it was absolutely necessary. She'd have to run to get in to work at time. At the front door of the building she turned back, raced to the elevators and selected her floor. Run back to her apartment and turned the thermostat of the radiator warmer. Then started back to work, already five minutes late. Made a mental note to invest to some hot water bottles later.

He woke up when he heard the door closing after Marie. Apartment felt considerably colder than it had been for the previous night. He burrowed deeper under covers, breathing in her sleepy scent. It was somehow comforting, and he could have sworn that the covers she had given him still carried the warmth from her body. Radiator was a cheap replacement for her. It lacked the softness of her body. He grunted and kicked off the covers, sitting up reluctantly.

He was awake now. And cold as hell. As soon as the lock had clicked on to place after Marie it was as if somebody had replaced the covers with a sheen of snow, and even the radiator felt cold as ice, even though he could tell from the changed situation of the thermostat, and Marie's scent that still lingered that she had in fact upped the heat before leaving.

"Might as well get dressed and go and get something to eat…" He muttered, reaching for his jeans. He spent a moment trying to find a suitable shirt.

"What the fuck are you doing, bub?" He asked from his mirror image. He was standing in the bathroom, in front of a tiny mirror, trying to see which of the shirts, the red, or the blue one would suit him the best. He explained it of as a momentarily lapse of reason, then chose a black T-shirt and the red flannel shirt over it. One more dash to the bathroom, to check if he needed to shave, and maybe he should comb his hair because it really looked a bit crinkled and…

"Oh, for Christ's sakes! I bet Scott would be proud of me…" He growled, tearing his gaze off from the mirror, hurrying towards the front door to avoid any last minute interruptions when it hit him. He hadn't put his shoes on the radiator last night.

He eyed his boots. They'd be wet. They'd be cold. His feet would start smelling like an old dishrag, and by the end of the day his toes would be crinkled as prunes and every bone in his feet would be hurting like a bitch. And was he slowly turning to old, arthritic lady by any chance? All he'd have to do was to find himself a cat, and he'd be good to go.

"Screw the breakfast. I need a beer." Lots of it, he huffed when he put on the boots and could feel the water sloshing around his toes with every step he took.

The doorman smiled and greeted him with a chipper 'goodmorningsirhowareyouonthisfinemorning'. He rewarded the man with murderous glare before sloshing out and deciding to hail a taxi rather than brave the weather. It was easier said than done. Every single new Yorker seemed to have the same bright idea, and it took him nearly half an hour of cajoling, stepping over puddles and avoiding passing cars splashing him with watery slush, and in the end plain flashing his claws and threatening to skewer the business-creep carrying a laptop who tried to steal his taxi before he could step in, lean back and close his eyes.

"Where to?"

"You know a place where I could get a decent breakfast with beer?" He asked, not bothering to open his eyes. His nose told him everything he needed to know. The driver was Haitian. The car was Japanese. The vomit on the floor between his feet was from the last night, Indian with some quality booze in the mix.

"Do yourself a favor, my man. Walk. It's just around the corner!" He heard the driver huff. Scent of marihuana in his breath made him grimace and he decided to take on the driver's advice.

* * *

He had had no idea that the place where Marie worked served beer. Now, sitting at the counter, waiting for her to bring his plate and the beer he already felt a good deal warmer. And even the places that shouldn't have been warming in her presence started stirring up, reminding him that it had been exactly three months and two days since he had last gotten laid. He shifted on his chair and cleared his throat.

"What time do you get off?" He asked. Marie turned from the coffee maker she was loading and flashed him a teasing smile.

"That's for me to know and you to find out… But my shift ends four o'clock, if that were what you were wondering." There was no way she could know what that smile, pearly white teeth peaking just barely from between her moist, parted lips did to him. No way.

"Four? Okay. I'll be waiting for you outside. That is, of course if you're still up to some shopping. I was thinking you should come with me, since you're the one ending up in that bed sooner or later." Marie winked at him and her smile only widened, her pink tongue darting quickly from between her teeth.

"Oh, honey… Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She huffed theatrically, placing her palms over her heaving chest, and he couldn't help noticing how nicely her uniform accentuated her breasts. Breasts? Since when she had grown out such a rack? And since when he had started to notice this kind of things from her? He tore his eyes off from the sight and tried not to think about her soft curves pressed against him, and concentrated on the food instead.

Half of the day he spent scouting for numerous boutiques and markets for the bed. Finding the trip very enlightening he decided to start tackling with his more urgent problem at hand. As cold and miserable as he was, he was still horny as hell. Since jerking off was the last possible resort he started hitting on his old flings. And started getting turned down at every door. Some were married, some not interested anymore, and the only one still actually hot for him was having her period, and Camille just wasn't the type of girl getting it on while she was bleeding.

He glanced at his watch and cursed out loud. Ten past four. He started running. He could already see Marie, standing in the crowd, obviously searching for him. He skidded to a halt before he got plowed to the street by a taxi, then lost his balance and stumbled over to where she stood and fell on his ass to the icy slush at her feet.

"Hi. Uh… Enjoying yourself?" Marie had the audacity to laugh. Anybody else would have gotten gut full of adamantium, but he only grunted at her.

"Stop your chirping, Tweedy Bird and help me up from here!" He huffed in mock annoyance. And she bought it. Score one for Wolverine, nil for Rogue. He grinned widely and pulled her down on the street as well; planting her firmly next to him in the puddle he was sitting in.

"Hey! What was this for?" Marie asked, still unable to stop laughing. It was contagious. Regardless of his shitty afternoon, and the fact that not only his boots, but his jeans as well were soaked and sloshing he started to laugh. People passing by stared at them numbly, as if they weren't even seeing the mismatched couple sitting in a puddle of cold water and half melted snow in the middle of the sidewalk, laughing and grinning like idiots.

"Oh, god… It looks just like I peed my pants…"

"Yeah, it does. But who's going to notice? They didn't saw us when we were wading in that puddle. I seriously doubt that anybody's going to look at you twice," he said, trying to stifle the quite unmanly fit of giggles. Marie was checking herself through her mirror image from a large window in front of them. She was twisting and turning, trying to survey the damage she had taken and kept casting dirty glances towards him every now and then.

"What? So it's okay for me to slosh around with huge wet stain at my rear, but it's not okay for you?" He asked still chuckling when they started walking towards her apartment.

"Tweedy Bird? Have you been watching Looney Tunes again?" She asked.

"Nope. But I have been watching beds and bed sheets. I swear if somebody tries to offer me a set with cartoon characters one more time I'll… Do I look like I could enjoy cuddling up with Wile Y. Coyote?"

"It's the latest fashion. Everybody has those. I even bought a set for professor Xavier for his birthday."

"What was on it?"

"Marvin the Martian. Hmmm… I think Wile Y. Coyote would suit you just fine…"

"I'm feeling more like Pepe Le Pew right now. What does it take to get laid in this city? Have tried everything except money already."

"Too much information there, bub. Urgh. I really do feel like I peed my pants. Hurry up. I want to get off from these soaked clothes."

"My charm turning you on?"

"Haha, Pepe. Go jump off a cliff or something."

* * *

She sighed and flopped on the couch, her feet landing over Logan's lap and her head over the armrest.

"Are you sure you couldn't spend one more night on this couch?" She asked. Logan picked up her leg.

"Tired?" He started massaging the sole of the feet and her toes. Her eyes practically rolled backwards in to her skull. She saw stars that she hadn't previously known even existed. She let out a low moan when Logan's fingers started softening the instep.

"Tired? Try exhausted… I was standing behind that counter the whole day, and I think the blood flow from my feet back to my upper body stopped somewhere around noon…"

"Oh… What's this I heard about earlier today? You're having some bad luck with women?" She asked, he eyes still closed. Logan harrumphed.

"Not so bad, seeing that you're draped over my lap." His fingers kept trailing higher, opening the tight knots from her calves and smoothing down irritated muscles.

"Come on! You really got turned down today?" She asked, opening her eyes.

"Repeatedly. But it's not a big issue. I have been meaning to move on anyway." There was no hurt in his eyes. He had taken it all in stride. She wasn't so sure if she'd be able to shrug that kind of rejection that easily.

"Move on? As in move out of town or…"

"No. Not planning to move out. Not any time soon."

"Then how?"

"Stick around the same chick too long and she starts noticing things. Small scrapes from her nails gone in one night. No wrinkles on me when she starts getting them. And the inevitable 'why won't you spend a night with me' –crap. It's better to end it before they connect the dots. Let me tell you, I haven't yet met a woman who'd be happy about the fact that she's been screwing a mutie."

"But… Wouldn't it be easier to start dating with somebody who actually knows you?"

"With who? Jean? I think Scott might have something to say over that matter. Ororo? Far too scary and hairy for her tastes. And besides, I don't screw with friends."

There were tears in her eyes. She tried to hold them back, but one persistent drop spilled over.

"What's the matter?" Logan asked, suddenly worried.

"Nothing… It's just… God. You make it sound so… You're so alone…"

"It's not that bad. And I'm not alone. I got you, right, Tweedy?" She pulled her feet off from his lap and crawled sitting on it, straddling him.

"You got me, Pepe…" It was impossible to talk anymore. Instead she cuddled against him, hugging him for the dear life of her, trying her earnest to keep back the sobs that were choking her.

* * *

She woke up later, still hugging Logan who had dosed off at some point, and looked none too comfortable, his head bent backwards over the backrest of the couch.

"Logan?"

"Yeah?" He cracked his eyes open. She started to crawl off from his lap. Logan grasped her hips.

"Don't go." He slid lower on the couch, turning a bit so that he was lying on it instead of sitting. She tried to squirm off from him.

"Marie, don't go."

"But you're tired. I should let you sleep."

"Sleep with me."

"Huh?"

"Just sleep. Please?"

"I think we'd be more comfortable in my bed."

"How… Do you want me to wear something?" Logan asked, standing beside her bed. She shook her head.

"I got some new bodysuits made for me just few weeks ago. I'll go and put on one of them, you can… You can wear what you like. Or if… If you prefer naked, it's not an issue." She tried not to stutter, because it really wasn't an issue. Logan however took her stuttering completely wrong way.

"Hey, if you're afraid that I'll skewer you or something…"

"No! No. It's fine. Really. Just… Ah. Just get in to bed. I'll be with you in a sec, okay?"

She grabbed a bodysuit from the top drawer of her dresser and dashed in to the bathroom, closing the door. She shrugged off the bathrobe she had had on earlier, as well as her undergarments. She usually slept nude, and wearing her knickers and bra in to bed felt just plain icky. And it wasn't like Logan would care if she wore a burlap sack. They were friends. She tried to tell that to the woman in the mirror. The woman who stood there, weighing her options and possibilities, and the outcome of opening the bathroom door when the light of the bathroom was still on and would reveal the outline of her body to the man in her bed.

She shook her head and flicked off the light before pushing open the door and fumbling towards the bed in complete darkness. She could hear Logan shifting under the covers.

"Are you asleep?" She asked.

"Not yet. Look, you don't have to do this. I can sleep on the couch if…"

"Hush. Besides, it looked like you got awfully cold last night. Maybe it's warmer to sleep in real bed."

"Okay…" He sounded relieved, and when she climbed to the bed, careful not to touch him since people usually tended to avoid touching her even when she were fully clothed he surprised her.

"What are you doing?" She asked. Logan was plastered against her back, one strong arm draped over her waist, the other tucked under neck and his face buried to the back of her neck, protected only by her hairs.

"Getting warm."

"Uh… Pepe?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you stop poking me with your thermometer?"

"I can try. But I have to warn you. It's an automated model. Equipped with heat seeking charge."

"As long as it doesn't go off accidentally I might be able to ignore it."

"Marie?"

"Yeah?"

"Stop squirming. You're practically humping me. Leave it alone and you have nothing to worry about."

"Okay."

* * *

He woke up to an unfamiliar feeling. It took him a while to realize that for the first time in several weeks he wasn't feeling cold and clammy. He was actually warm. Warm enough to let the covers slide lower to cool down a bit. Marie muttered in her sleep, scrunched her nose and bunched up the part of the cover he had given up tightly under her chin. Tweedy Bird? Right now she looked a lot like chipmunk. A cute chipmunk. Very cute chipmunk, buttocks nestled against his groin, his fingers grazing the underside of her full breasts. He was quite sure that either Chip or Dale wouldn't stir him up quite like Marie did.

He had tried to rationalize it. He didn't screw with friends. She was his friend, so his interest in her had to be purely platonic. Protective, brotherly or fatherly. But no brother or father would think about her this way. No brother or father would notice the curve of her waist. No friend would wonder what her breasts would feel like if he cupped them now. Nobody but a lover or a man in heat would think about what the skin underneath the thin barrier of the bodysuit would taste like. He definitely suited for the latter label, but a lover? Hardly. And she deserved more than just a casual fuck. She needed more. So he was just her friend. Never mind that his hips were having a life and the will of their own, muscles flexing and clenching, rubbing his cock against her buttocks. He. Was. Just. Her. Friend. And if she didn't wake up soon and either kick him out of this bed or spread her legs for him he was going to die over blue balls from hell.

She muttered again and shifted in her sleep, curling to a tighter ball, grabbing the covers and he could feel the coolness of her bedroom on his heated skin. He turned on his back, thrusting upwards with his hips, nearly moaning out loud for the loss of friction.

"Marie?" No reaction. He cleared his throat.

"Kid? Wake up."

"Mmh… What is it?" She asked, turning around, cuddling against his side. Move brought his nude body, and his erect cock to her sight.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked, resisting the urge to grab himself. There was a subtle change in her scent. Curiosity? Lust?

"No. I… I know you don't screw with your friends, but… But we could pretend that…"

"There's no pretending with you. If anything happens, it happens between us."

"Will things be different if we…"

"I don't know. I don't know, Marie."

He turned on his side, wanting to see her face. Her gaze flickered briefly towards his crotch before settling in to his eyes. She was as unsure and hesitant as he was.

"I don't know if things would change, and truth to be told, it scares the shit out of me. I don't want us to wake up tomorrow and realize it was a mistake. I don't want to ruin this… What we have now." He murmured. She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a light, chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"I'm not a boyfriend. I'm not a husband. I'm not even a good friend. But I am your friend, and I want you to know that there's every possibility that we end up hurting if we go through this. I can't promise you that I'll stick around. I can't…" It was his turn to fall in to silence when Marie's fingers wrapped around his aching shaft. He uttered a silent curse and fell on his back when she stroked him firmly.

"Marie…"

"Hush. I have gotten enough of what we can't. I want to see what we can."

The material of her bodysuit rasped silently under his fingers. He wanted to tear it off, but resisted that urge. He could feel the heat and moisture seeping through it when he rubbed the juncture of her thighs, his movements matching hers when she stroked his cock.

"Do you have any condoms with you?" Marie asked. It took a while to wrap his mind around the question when her fingers teased the slit at the tip of his cock.

"Yeah… I'll go and get them…"

"Are you going?"

"Yup. As soon as I get up…"

Short trip to living room where he had discarded his clothes felt like it took eternity. Every step made his cock bop against his abdomen, sending jolts through his whole body.

"We can't… It's too dangerous to…" Marie whispered when he returned to the bedroom and rolled on a rubber. He nodded.

"Can't fuck you."

"But I can use my mouth."

"I'm sure you can…" He murmured crawling on to the bed. She blushed and shifted aside to give him more space. He leaned against the headboard and tilted his head when she just sat there. Then it occurred to him.

"Marie?"

"Yes?"

"Are you a virgin?"

"Well, duh! Of course I am! But I have done things. I have done some things with Bobby, and I still have some of your memories and…" She squeaked from surprise when he grabbed her and pulled her on his side rather than on top of him.

"I'm probably going to regret this later. Shit. I'm already regretting this…" He murmured rolling off the condom and discarding it to the floor. Marie looked at him perplexed, her lips quivering.

"I really meant it… It's… I know what I'm doing! It's not like you're robbing my innocence or anything…" She started rambling, her eyes watering from the disappointment.

"I'm sure you know what you're doing. I have no doubts. You'd probably be the best fuck of my life. And I'm not worried about your innocence. Have never been. Shit, with Magneto and me floating in your head…" He tried to find the right words to explain his behavior.

"But why?" She was really crying now. Big, fat tears dropping on his chest, making his skin itch.

"I don't want you to settle for half of what you could get. This basically being your first time and everything… I want to show you things. Do things to you. Good things. But you have to trust me."

"But I trust you!"

"You don't even know me, kid. You know me from what… Six years back. You know the man I was back then, inside out. But it has been six years. We have been friends, but can you honestly say that you know me? Or even like me that much?"

"Huh?"

"I fuck around. I drink. As well as I could be here with you in the next morning, I might as well leave before you wake up. I haven't been around much lately. Sure, I have been looking after you, but you have been hanging around with that Ice Prick and I have been chasing skirts left and right."

"I know that."

"I think we should at least try to get to know each other before we go any further."

He grunted and shifted. Turned and tossed. And eventually gave up, sitting up and getting dressed. Marie was still sleeping in the bedroom. It was her day-off. He had been spending rest of the night in the living room, on the couch, trying to find a plausible excuse to go back to Marie. Somehow him having blue balls didn't quite cut it.

* * *

She woke up and sprinted to the living room upon noticing that Logan was missing. Sharp relief washed through her when he was sitting there with a cup of fresh coffee and a newspaper.

"Good morning," she greeted him, perhaps overly perkily, because he looked up from the paper he was reading, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Morning…" He grunted, then turned his attention back to the paper.

She skipped to the kitchen, struck her toe to a chair and hid the yelp of pain behind a coughing fit before taking a cup from a shelf and pouring some coffee in it. She limped to the living room and cuddled on the couch, trying her best to act natural. To act like last night hadn't even happened. And it wasn't working very well. She nearly choked to her coffee when Logan turned around and his elbow brushed against her thigh.

"Yeah… This is exactly what I was thinking last night…" Logan grunted, standing up, discarding the paper to the coffee table and walking to the window, finishing his coffee with one big gulp.

"Uh… What were you thinking about?" She asked, trying desperately stem the flush that crept over her face. Logan twirled the empty cup in his hand, seemingly enthralled from the way the last droplets of coffee clung to the bottom of it.

"This. You. Me. We can talk and joke about fucking everything and anything. Usually that is. And now you can't even look at me. And truth to be told, I have no fucking idea how to look at you." He kept his eyes fixed to the grey clouds outside the window. She shifted on the couch, rubbing her stinging toe carefully, avoiding looking at his back.

"I can't… I won't deny it. I have been thinking about you. What it would be like between us. But… Oh, crap. I'm a selfish bastard, you should already know that. That applies to sex as well. Find, fuck and leave, that's me. I rarely stay with a same chick longer than few weeks. After the novelty of new quirks wears off there's no reason for me to stick around. There's nothing left that I couldn't find from somewhere else. That's why it's easier to fuck with anybody else than friends."

"So… Now that we have established that you're a perverted asshole, how about we return to routine. And finally go and buy you that damn bed?" She huffed, forcing a smile on her face when Logan turned to look at her.

"Tweedy?"

"Yes, Pepe?"

"I like that plan. Like it a lot."

She got dressed in record time, eager to leave the confines of the apartment. It suddenly felt awfully small and crowded. Logan seemed to share her opinion, nearly running over her in his haste to get out. Then they had to return to retrieve the keys to his motorcycle he had forgotten, but eventually they sat in front of a promising looking boutique that sold furniture.

"I'm looking for something sturdy," he brushed off her first proposal, a frame made out of thin metal pipes. She waggled her eyebrows knowingly.

"Screw you, Tweedy. That crow's nest would fucking fold half if I tried to sleep on it…" Logan grumbled, scaring off the saleslady who had been making her way towards them, sugary smile plastered over her face.

"I know what you mean. How about that one?" She asked, pointing towards something that looked more like a wooden platform than a real bed. Logan crouched next to it, running his hand over the smooth, etched surface.

"This just might be it…" He muttered, eyes already flickering over his surroundings, looking for something.

"But it's missing few parts."

"And what would those parts be?" She asked sitting on the futon.

"Mattress and nightstands. I saw this same bed in another store yesterday, and they came with the package… Hey! You!" Logan stood up, his eyes fixed to the woman that was hiding behind the cash register.

Half an hour later everybody was satisfied. Saleslady was relieved that the scary-looking, grumpy customer had left, Logan was satisfied that he had found what he was looking for and gotten it within range of his budget, and Marie was immensely pleased that he had made everything happen without threatening to claw everything and everybody in the store to bits, even though it had been a close call when the saleslady had proposed that maybe, just maybe they should replace the thin mattress that belonged to the bed with a thicker one because it would be more comfortable for his companion's back.

"What next?" She asked.

"Sheets."

"Oh, I know this shop that sells all kinds of stuff from Looney Tunes…" Logan's glare was enough to assure her that cartoon characters were out of the equation.

"Don't need another Tweedy… Besides, I have a rep to maintain."

"And that Care Bears –blanket wouldn't go very well with Wile Y. Coyote," she giggled, earning yet another glare.

"I was cold. It was warm. Which reminds me, I better invest to thermal blanket as well…"

When their little shopping spree was over, Logan's funds had taken considerable damage, but the small bedroom at Marie's apartment was furnished for his liking, and next day he'd be busy figuring out which parts belonged together since none of the shops sold furniture assembled. They had tried to make some sort of schedule for deliveries so that he could have some time in between bed and small couch, as well as chest of drawers, but Marie doubted she'd find him swearing a blue streak in the midst of scattered parts when she arrived from work that evening.

"Hungry?" She asked when Logan parked in front of a Chinese restaurant. She was starving.

"I could eat. Listen… Uh… I was… I'm going out tonight," Logan blurted when she stepped down from the saddle.

"Oh… That's… It's okay. Just remember to…"

"For Christ's sakes, kid. I'm not planning to drag some bimbo on that couch of yours!" Logan huffed.

"Duh! I was going to tell you to remember to take the keys with you. But it's good to know that you'll be keeping your… Your business elsewhere," she muttered, bright red dots burning over her cheekbones. Logan snorted.

"Yeah. Whatever. I'm… I'm not that hungry after all. Is it okay if I drop you off here? It's just few blocks from your place."

"It's okay. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Have a nice day," Logan grunted and sat on his motorcycle. He waited until she got in to the restaurant before gunning the engine and disappearing to the sea of cars.

* * *

He should have known better. Should have known better than to let his dick get the better of him when Marie curled against him on that bed. He didn't know her well enough not to fuck her, but he knew her too well to fuck her. And either way he'd eventually screw the whole fucking mess up. And on top of everything she was thinking that he had ditched her so that he could get laid. Granted, at first he had been planning to find a bar and some chick that wasn't too picky, but reason had won. He had burned nearly all his savings while shopping, and tomorrow he'd need to cough up his share of the rent. Right now it was more important to find a way to make money rather than waste it for sating his baser needs. And for some reason even thought of screwing some nameless woman felt like he'd be cheating Marie.

And he should have known better than to hit all his usual haunts in his search of quick cash. At the end of the night his wallet was bursting from the seams. Apparently people still needed somebody bigger and meaner than them to collect their debts and protect their property, but money wasn't the only compensation they had tried to offer. His wallet wasn't the only thing that was bulging. Of course he could have taken that blonde and screw her. But somehow he had felt that he probably wouldn't have gotten his plumbing to cooperate. Of course he could have taken those two redheads Jack had tried to offer, but did he really need yet another reminder of how untouchable and unavailable Jean was? The last one had been pretty darn hard to refuse. Gorgeous brunette. Just the right height and shape. She had even had blonde streaks in her hair. Granted, they hadn't been snow white, and not on her forehead, but the woman had been too close for the real thing.

He tried to sneak in as quietly as possible. Toed off his boots and hang his jacket to the closet. Shuffled in to the kitchen and found a thermos full of fresh coffee on the table, and a pile of sandwiches from the fridge, both decorated with small slip of paper that identified them as Logan's. Just for him. Not for somebody else. Not for some hoe he probably had dragged home with him.

He wasn't hungry anymore. He left the sandwiches in the fridge, but took the thermos with him and flopped on the couch, letting his gaze rest on the rising sun outside, gulping steaming coffee straight out of it.

Alarm clock started beeping, and he could hear a muffled curse coming from Marie's bedroom.

"Tweedy?"

"Yes?"

"Could you come over here for a second?"

"In a minute!"

He could hear her getting up. Using the bathroom. Then she appeared to the doorway, yawning widely, thick bathrobe covering her from chin to toes.

"Good morning… Or is it evening for you?" She muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"Sit." He patted a vacant spot next to him on the sofa. She sat obediently, clearly puzzled from his behavior. He sipped some coffee, enjoying the burn as it flowed down his throat.

"You really thought that I left so I could get laid?"

"Yeah. Wasn't that pretty obvious? I kind of left you… Unsatisfied."

"If I recall correctly it was me who called it off. And I may be a bastard, but I'm not fucking bastard. I kind of thought that we made a deal last night."

"A deal?"

"Yeah. I thought we were going to… Ah, hell… I thought we were going to start dating."

"Oh…"

"Yeah. So… Truth to be told, I haven't done this kind of shit before, but I'm pretty sure that the whole point of dating is to stick with one chick only. Not screw around with half of the town."

"Logan, I…"

"I know I wouldn't find my picture from under label 'good boyfriend' from any dictionary, but you have to give me some credit, Marie."

"But…"

"Of course if you think that it's completely ridiculous idea and that you'd rather date fucking Toad than me… I have just made an ass out of me, but it was just something I wanted to make clear. Just in case… Just in case you…"

He stood up, placing the thermos to the coffee table in front of the couch and walked to the window, raking his fingers through his messed mane of dark hair. Marie wasn't speaking, but he could feel her gaze burrowing between his shoulderblades.

"Tweedy? Exactly how big of an ass I just made out of me?"

"I don't know, Pepe. I'm still trying to figure out everything you said after you told me that you thought we had a deal. You want to start… Dating? With me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Why?"

"Well… Why do people date? To get to know each other better?"

"I fucking know you, Logan. To say that you're not a good boy friend is an understatement."

"That's my point. You think you know me. I think I know you. But do you realize that during the whole time we spent at Xavier's we barely spoke with each other?"

"We did speak. And we have been talking on the phone before you moved in here. And…"

"You know me from six years back. I know you from six years back. And I'd like to think we have both developed from since then. Grown up. Both of us."

"Huh?"

"Do you know how many women I have slept with since I met you?"

"What the hell has that got to do with anything? I don't know! Ten? Twenty?"

"Fifteen. You have seen each and every one of them. Do you know what I usually do after a long day?"

"Have some beer?"

"Actually I prefer TV or a good book. Do you know what's my favorite color?"

"I don't know. What the fuck is this? How am I supposed to know those things? Do you know those things about me?"

"No."

Suddenly she realized what Logan was aiming for.

"You want us to take things slow?"

"Yeah."

"You sure you wouldn't settle for quick fuck on the kitchen table?"

"No. And I think you wouldn't either."

"Then what the hell are we waiting for, Pepe? Let's start dating."


End file.
